


Talented Memories

by Oh_Toasty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Child Death, Historical References, M/M, Mentions of gas chambers, Mentions of witch burning, Olympics, Past Lives, Reincarnated Stiles, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6366064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Toasty/pseuds/Oh_Toasty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since he was a child, Stiles has experienced flashes of his own past lives. His mother tells him it has to remain a secret, and he follows her lead until he finds someone who gives him reason to confide in them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

  
He has many, many talents mostly unknown to his both his friends and father. Some of the things he can do are unknown even to himself, waiting to be unlocked in the form of a memory at the moment he needs them.

He isn't surprised that he has all these small strange talents, his mother had them also. In fact, if Stiles thinks back, he can removed her explaining to him where they come from.

"Alright baby," She had told him a he settled on her lap. "What I tell you has to stay right here with us, don't tell anyone not even Daddy. Do you understand?"

Nodding solemnly, Stiles had agreed, "I promise Mommy."

"Alright then," She replied a wide smiles splitting her face. "In that case I'll tell you about why we're different."

"Is it the tricks," Stiles questioned eyes wide. "'Cause Scott says it takes him a long time to learn any, but I always just have to want it then I remember how!"

"That's exactly what this is about, the things you're remembering, their from your past lives. The tricks as you call them, their skills from who you used to be. Over time, you'll collect a lot of little tricks, and when you're eighteen you'll finally fully remember everything about your previous lives."

Stiles pouted, "Why can't I know now!"

Claudia shook her head ruefully, "You're to young for some of the things you'll need to remember."

Stiles thought hard for a moment before shrugging, "Okay, but why can't I tell Daddy?"

"He isn't like us," Claudia admitted a sad look appearing in her eyes, "Not many people are. Everyone else doesn't remember their past lives, or they don't have any. I can't be sure, either way you can't tell anyone."

"Don't worry," Stiles reassured her, "I won't tell."

Time passes, and Stiles remembers more and more little flashes. All which he dutifully reports to his mother. She's there through it all from Stiles making a bow and some arrows out of scarps to his phase of speaking in Middle English.

When Claudia dies, the quirks that come with his abilities are diagnosed as ADHD and Stiles is put on Adderall. It makes him feel disconnected, and the memories of past lives are harder to access, but he takes the pills because it makes his dad happy and he still gets the occasional memory flash.

He's sixteen, Scott has been bitten by a werewolf, and Stiles is angry because he should know something about this, about how to help. He doesn't though, instead he's left to wonder as Scott spend his first full moon tied up. How is it possible that in all his lives he's never encountered the supernatural?

Stiles's eyes flicker over to the half empty bottle of Adderall, and he wonders. Is it really that he's never encountered the supernatural, or that he can't remember?

He doesn't take his Adderall the next day, and quickly discovers his instincts were right. It had been the Adderall, must have been, because in third period he catches Scott's eyes glowing and remembers.

_"Well if it isn't the big bad wolf," Stiles says the words falling from his lips as he gazes off his porch and hears foot steps behind him._

_"Abimael," a warm voice greets him, "Careful, I may just lose control and devour you."_

_"Please," a snort rips through his throat. "You have impeccable control, even I don't know how you do it."_

_"I've told you before," the voice says in exasperation. "All wolves need an anchor, something to focus on and calm themselves with."_

_"Maybe," Stiles allows, "Now let's get down to business, I'm sure you dot want to be seen with a colonist rebel."_

_He begins to turn, but everything fades to black before he can remember the voice's face._

When Stiles reopens his eyes, he's in Econ with Coach Finstock, just as he had been before. His emotions are a conflict of frustration and pleasure, because he needs to know more but is glad that has seen this much, that the Adderall isn't blocking him.

"An anchor," He'll tell Scott later, "That's what you need!"

Then, when Scott asks how he knows, Stiles will shrug and mumbles something not quite a truth or a lie, "The Internet."

It'll become his excuse for a lot of his abilities in the future, like the time he constructs a Molotov cocktail before Lydia can finish naming the ingredients she needs. It's because of this that he's charged with making and throwing the cocktail at Peter in their final confrontation with him.

After that, there's a period in time where Stiles only uses his abilities and memories for mundane things, much like he had as a child. He enjoys it, the newly strengthened frequency of the memories sans the stress he'd been under when he first stopped taking his Adderall.

Then he finds himself treading water in a pool and holding up a paralyzed Derek. He's only five minutes in when he begins to flounder.

'Please,' he whispers, 'Please.'

Derek assumes he's praying, but Stiles is only talking to himself in hopes one of his past memories will be triggered. For far to long, nothing happens. Then, he's suddenly elsewhere.

_His arms are strong and pull him through the water easily. He feels at home as he finishes his swim through the Bay of Zea. Climbing out of the water, he laughs as a gold medal is hung about his throat and the announcer speaks._

_"And our 1896 Olympic gold medalist for the 1200 meter freestyle is Alfréd Hajós!"_

_Pride radiates through him as his people cheer._

Stiles takes the memory, and along with it the power that flowed through his past selves veins. Implementing the tactics and training of his past self is all that keeps them above the water for the next two hours.

Then, things come to an end and Stiles finally leaves the pool area. That night he goes home and researches his past self, there isn't much information, but Stiles can't help the joy he feels. It's the first time he's received the name of a past life.

Life returns to normal after Jackson turns into a normal werewolf and no one ever really wonders about the many things Stiles can do, not until after Peter's return from the dead.

"Worm Wood Ritual," Upon hearing about the resurrection Stiles breathes before he can stop him self.

Peter's eyes narrow and he leans forwards, "Now now little human, how did you know that? Before I bit Scott, you didn't even know werewolves were real."

"I researched," Stiles answers, and it isn't a lie. He did research, just using his own fragments of memory from past lives.

No one else notices their exchange, to focused on the matter of the the alpha pack, but Stiles knows Peter is cataloguing the memory, adding it to his list of strange things Stiles does.

That's the day Stiles catches Peter's attention.

He doesn't lose it anytime after that day, and these days Peter almost always notices when Stiles is in his memories, though he doesn't know what's happening.

Stiles sees him watching, but can't find anyway to discourage him. Especially since he can't stop the elder man from being there when he starts to remember something. If there's a small part of Stiles that doesn't want to stop Peter, doesn't want to return to a life where nobody notices, that's his own business.

Stiles is at a meeting, two months after catching Peter's attention when a names catches his attention: Deucalion.

Suddenly, Stiles feels the tug of a past life memory and he wanders out of the room to experience it in peace.

_"Dad," He gasps as Wolf's Bane gas fills the air and Gerard Argent takes out a club with wolf teeth attached._

_His father (Deucalion a voice whispers in his head snaps his neck towards where he's currently hiding._

_"Lucas." He says voice filled with horror. "Son, run please, you shouldn't have followed me here."_

_"Dad," he gasps out again, louder this time and the hunter turns from hurting his own men to face his hiding spot._

_"What do we have here?" Gerard asks as he kneels before him and grins._

_He snarls, but it comes out weak as tired as the Wolf's Bane has made him. Gerard chuckles and stands back up before shooting a Wolf's Bane bullet in his gut._

_"Good luck with that," Gerard chuckles before walking out._

_There's a moment, where there's nothing but the gentle scraping of nails as his father drags his own injured body close enough to touch his son._

_"Lucas," he murmurs as reassuringly as possible. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll avenge you I swear. I'll strike back with rage of wolves who haven't felt the moon in months."_

_"Daddy," he repeats one last time, "I love you."_

_The last thing he hears as he's dragged into darkness is a mournful howl_.

"What do you do?" Peter asks one day as he peers at Stiles as he comes out from a memory. "Where does your mind take you?"

He cuts himself off as he notices the heavy breathing from the teen before him, "Stiles, are you alright?"

"Fine," Stiles grits out wrenching his arm away from Peter.

He isn't fine, he's never had that happen before. The memories he's relived haven't all been happy, but he's never felt his own death before. Nor has he felt memories from a life so close to his current one, his best guess says that must have been his last life before this one. It's strange, that memory is also his first of being a different species than human.

"Really," Peter is saying, "You don't look so good."

"I'm fine," Stiles repeats, "Though I have some ideas I need to go research, I'll see you later."

The next day, Stiles arrives with a probable location for Boyd and Erica and Peter watches him curiously as Derek asks, "Why do you think they're at the bank vault?"

"The walls are lined with Hecatolite, aka moonstone. If your betas are there, they haven't felt the moon light in two and a half months and something tells me Deucalion appreciates the idea of rageful wolves who haven't felt the moon in months."

Derek still looks skeptical, but Peter sees the anxious look upon Stiles face, and quickly steps into through Stiles his support. Eventually, his nephew agrees to check it out, and Peter goes on a trip to the bank where they break out Erica and Boyd, as well as Cora who they thought long dead. To say it is a long day is an understatement, and all Peter really wants is a nice long nap.

He doesn't get it, instead he watches as Stiles sneaks away doing his best to be discreet. It's his poor attempt at discretion that catches Peter's eye; had he just left as loudly and boisterous as usual, nobody would have found anything odd about it. As it is, Peter follows Stiles out to his Jeep.

"Where are you going?" He asks startling the human so much that he hits his head on the Jeep's frame.

Stiles huffs, "No where!"

"Really," Peter asks eyebrows raising, "You think I'll actually fall do that."

Stiles shakes his heard, "No, not really. You may as well get into the jeep, I can't stop you from following."

Peter grins widely and Stiles rolls his eyes as the older man crawls into the passenger seat, "I'm glad you've realized that, I was worried I would have to run behind the jeep the whole time."

"Shut up," Stiles instructs as he flips the radio on.

"No, I don't think I will," Peter replies as he puts his feet up on the dashboard. "Now where are we going?"

"Get your feet off the dash," Stiles orders pushing at Peter.

Raising his eyebrows, he obeys, "Stiles, stop deflecting, where are we going?"

"To see Deucalion."


	2. Chapter Two

  
"Deucalion?" Peter asks his voice hardening.

Stiles nods, not trusting his voice. He isn't quite sure how to explain himself with out telling Peter about his last life.

"Why?" Peter asks and this time he sounds gentler, as if he had noticed Stiles's subdued reaction.

Shrugging Stiles answers, "I think I can talk him out of his attack of Scott and Derek."

"How," Peter wonders his eyes narrowing as he does a once over of the boy besides him.

"I'm going to manipulate him using something I found out by his past," Stiles admits frowning as he thinks about it. "You'll get to hear about it when he does."

"I'll allow that," Peter agrees. "But after you'll tell me how you know this."

"Maybe," Stiles sad and it has to be enough for now.

They don't talk again until Kali has seated them in a room with Deucalion. Even then, Deucalion gets in the first word.

"You had better have something good, or I'll rip your head off."

"Stiles," Peter says as if the younger man needs his permission to start.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Stiles begins to speak, "I would like to request that you leave this town. Don't bother to try and take Scott or kill the Hale's."

"Interesting," Deucalion hums, "Why should I?"

"Because," Stiles starts, "Building a stronger pack, it isn't going to make up for the people Gerard killed. It won't bring Lucas back."

"Don't ever say that name again," Deucalion snarls slamming his fists down onto the table.

Peter gives Stiles an assessing look wondering where he had gotten his information. It's obvious that who ever Lucas is his name has an affect on the alpha before them.

"You know he wouldn't want this," Stiles says, his voice cold. "He probably wouldn't mind you surrounding yourself by a strong pack, in fact I'm sure he'd love to see you protect yourself. But I know he wouldn't want you to kill the Hales."

Growling, Deucalion's eyes narrow, "What I am doing, I do for him! Talia Hale is why I as there, she's the reason Lucas followed me and got killed."

"No," Stiles objects, "Lucas followed, because he wanted to be like you. The Hale's had nothing to do with this."

"I should tear you apart," The wolf says, but he's quieter, calmer.

Peter growls but Stiles stops him with a raised hand, "You won't though."

"No," Deucalion agrees, "If only because you remind me of him."

"Yeah, I bet you do," Stiles huffs quietly, "So you'll leave?"

"We will," Deucalion agrees, "But only because I can see that it isn't the alphas who are in control here, and you're still to strong willed to come with me."

"A pleasure to meet you," Stiles says as he stands.

Peter and Deucalion rise also and the alpha shakes hands with the two of them.

"Goodbye," Deucalion says as Kali returns to escort them out. "I doubt we'll see each other again."

"Not in this life," Stiles agrees though he's quiet and not exactly addressing anyone in particular.

Peter waits until they're out of the wolves' hearing range before asking his questions.

"Who is Lucas?"

Stiles pinches his nose a heaves put a deep breath, "Here we go, Lucas was his son. He died when all the alphas came to form a treaty with the Argents, killed alongside with all the adults."

"Hmm," Peter huffs, "How did you know about him?"

"Research," Stiles grunts, but Peter narrows his eyes.

"That's only a half-truth tell me the rest."

"Why should I?" Stiles mutters, "Why should I trust you of all people?"

Peter shrugs, "Because I'm the only one who you have. I'm the only one in the pack who really notices you, and I like you Stiles. I won't tell anyone, I don't have anyone."

"No, I suppose you don't," Stiles says as he pulls the jeep into his drive way. "Come in and I'll explain myself."

And he does. Stiles explains it all, in a way he never has before, from his mother's conversation with him to his memories about being Deucalion's son. Peter stays with him the whole time, never once looking to alarmed.

"Well," Peter says once Stiles has finished, "That explains a lot."

From that point on, Peter is in the know. When he spots Stiles experiencing a new memory, he'll make excuses with the rest of the pack and gently guide the human out. Stiles himself, well he feels relaxed in a way he hasn't since his mother was alive. He can relax and allow for full immersion in his memories because he knows someone will be there for him when he emerges.

Their mutual support becomes especially important on a late Autumn night when Scott calls Stiles and suggests a pack bonding experience.

"Let's do a bonfire!"

"No," Stiles answers his eyes flickering over to Peter, "I don't think that will be a good idea."

"It'll be fine," Peter says quietly. "Let him have his fun, I'll just stay on the fringes."

"That's not fair to you," Stiles huffs, but he uncovers his phone and brings it back up to his ear. "Fine, we can do that, you have to invite ever on though."

"I can do that!" Scott agrees enthusiastically and Stiles hangs up the phone.

Turning to face Peter, Stiles raises an eyebrow, "Are you sure that you can handle this?"

"More than sure," Peter snorts. "So long as I stay away from the heat, I'll be fine. Seeing it won't bother me, a bonfire looks nothing like a house fire."

"Alright," Stiles agrees. "Now help me with this translation."

When they arrive at the bonfire, the rest of the pack is already there.

"Stiles," Scott greets as he does his best to ignore Peter. "Come over here with us."

Stiles looks over at Peter, considering his options and the werewolf shakes his head, "Go with him. I'll still be here when you're done."

"Alright, see you later," Stiles smiles as he follows Scott off to the other side of the fire.

Scott, Peter learns, still hasn't gotten used to wolf hearing, because he deems it a distance far enough for Peter not to hear them.

"Stiles," Scott says, sounding exasperated. "Why are you spending time with Peter, you know he's dangerous!"

"Yes, but I like him," Stiles replies as he narrows his eyes at Scott.

"You shouldn't," Scott objects.

"You don't know anything Scott," Stiles answers, "Stop trying to ruin my friendships."

Then he turns to face the fire and his whole body stiffens as he remembers.

_The fire is to much, it's all around him blazing and he struggles against his bindings. There's nothing he can do to escape them not as the villagers surround him chanting._

_"Burn the witch!"_

_He screams in agony as his flesh burns and the magic blocking ropes bite into his arms and legs. He can't escape, not when his only back up plan has been so brutally cut off from him._

_As he burns, he makes eye contact with a strickinkly blue pair of eyes, and hears their own mutter, "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."_

Peter only knows when Stiles enters a memory, because his eavesdropping on his conversation with Scott. He's still focused on Stiles as he silently faces away from Scott and can smell the underlying terror he's giving off. The scent that's not quite sting enough to be from anything now, only from a memory.

Peter leaps into his feet, stalking towards Stiles instantly, and disregarding his own discomforts around the fire. Upon reaching the younger teen, Peter places a gentle hand on his shoulder and guides them back towards the Jeep.

Lydia is the only one to notice.

"Tell me," Peter murmurs when Stiles comes out of his fugue state. "What was it this time?"

Stiles tells him and Peter drives them back towards Stiles house. There's a long moment of silence after Stiles complete his story, but eventually they pull into the drive way and Peter breaks it.

"It seems we both have un-fond memories of fire."

Stiles can't help it, the simple string of words breaks him done enough that tears slid done his cheeks.

"Yeah," he hiccups stepping out of the vehicle. "I guess we do."

Peter follows him out, and wraps the younger man in a hug, allowing him to cry in his warm embrace.

"It'll be alright."

It takes a few moments, but eventually the tears dry up and Stiles just nestles his face into Peter's shoulder.

"Better," Peter asks and Stiles pulls away to nod.

"Yeah, thank you."

Then Stiles leans upwards to press his lips against Peter's. It lasts only a few moments before the werewolf pulls away.

"Not tonight," Peter tells him. "It's been an emotional night. You should get some sleep before you decide to do anything you'll regret."

"I won't regret it," Stiles informs Peter, but he still steps away. "We'll talk in the morning I guess."

"See you tomorrow," Peter promises before he runs away back towards his apartment.

The next day, they only see one another because Stiles takes it upon himself to make sure they do. Peter returns home after a trip to the grocery store and finds Stiles waiting for him inside.

"How'd you get in?" Peter wonders as he throws his keys into bowl on counter.

Stiles shrugs, "I can pick locks, I remembered how when I was six."

"So your proficiency in attracting trouble must be present in your former lives also."

"Yeah," Stiles smirks, "I'd say that's true."

"Lunch?" Peter asks as he begins to shelve his groceries.

Stiles stands up to assist him as he replies, "No thanks, that's not why I came."

"And why are you here?" Peter asks setting done his bag to turn an look at Stiles. "What do you want?"

"You," Stiles admits staring into his eyes. "Last night wasn't some mistake I made because of my emotional roller coaster, I like you Peter. I want to have a relationship with you."

"You shouldn't," Peter answers as he turns away. "Scott's right, I'm not a good person."

Stiles snorts, "It doesn't matter to me. I haven't always been a good person. I would've done the same thing as you if it had been my family that had died."

Peter hums, "You aren't lying."

"No," Stiles agrees, "I'm not. Now, are you going to kiss me or not?"

"I think I will," Peter responds as he leans in to do as he has said he will.

Stiles responds happily as if it's the best kiss he's ever had. All thoughts of groceries disappear from their heads as they enjoy one another's presence.

From there, their relationship only blossoms. Stiles is seventeen so they don't do anything sexual because as Peter says, "I will not go to jail for molesting the sheriff's son." However, they go on dates and enjoy one another's company which, for the time being, is more than enough.

It takes four months before the pack notices the change in their relationship and a member opts to corner Peter. Surprisingly, it's Derek and not Scott that speaks to him.

"What are you doing with Stiles?" Derek growls as he stops Peter's shopping cart with one hand.

"At the moment, nothing. I'm trying to shop."

Narrowing his eyes Derek tries again, "Peter, you know what I'm talking about."

"Oh," Peter responds mock surprise on his face. "You mean am I dating him? The answer is yes. Now may I go, I need to get some salmon for dinner tonight."

"Peter," Derek mutters a warning note in his voice. "Why are you messing around with Stiles?"

"Why do you assume I am?" Peter says with a snarl. "Maybe if you actually looked you'd see I'm happy with Stiles, and he's a lot happier these days."

"Fine," Derek growls as he realizes he won't get anywhere else with Peter. "If you hurt him, I'll rip your throat out."

"Of course," Peter replies with a rather mild smile. "I expect nothing else."

Derek leaves and Peter moves on, though that night he does tell Stiles about the encounter. The younger man laughs quietly and tells Peter he's ashamed it took them this long to realize they were together.

Life continues as normal, Stiles occasionally remembering parts of his past lives and Peter being there for him the whole time. Scott corners Peter at one point and coms out a lot worse for wear than Derek had. When he tells Stiles, the human simply shrugs and asks what he had done to piss off Peter.

Soon, Stiles's eighteenth birthday is hovering in the horizon and he confesses his worries to Peter.

"I'm not sure I want to remember everything," Stiles murmurs to Peter as they lie on the couch and watch television.

Peter nods, "Why are you scared of it?"

"What if I don't like who I was?" Stiles wonders. "I've been so many people, there's no way I'll like all of my lives."

"Maybe," Peter admits, "But you have to remember, they're all you and I doubt you're moral have really changed that much."

"I guess we'll just have to see," Stiles pouts, but he already feels better.

Stiles birthday comes, and he spends the night at Peter's (his father has a night shift). It isn't for sexual reasons, as he's sure most will assume, instead he stays for the comfort he may need as his memories return.

It's a rush when it starts and it feels like he's just getting multiple flashes.

_Using magic to heal a young girl, and her father thanking him._

_Whimpering as a Nazi presses him into gas chamber._

_Dancing with a prince despite only being a peasant girl._

_His throat being slit as he's shoved against an alley wall._

_Kissing a girl who pushes him away and tells him to work for her affections._

_Being strung up and tortured for using magic_.

Tears drip down his face, and Stiles isn't sure if they're happy or sad. Peter is there, holding his hand and murmuring reassuringly when suddenly the flashes stop.

He remembers, every aspect of his former lives is now accessible. He remembers the names of his past selves: _Alfréd Hajós, Matteuccia de Francesco, Liu Bang, Margarget Hamilton_. He has been so much, _Olympic swimmer, witch, emperor, software engineer._

And he hasn't been alone for most of his lives: _Vilma for Alfred, Catarina who burnt along with Matteuccia, Empress Lü Zhi, Paul Meserve._

The more he shifts through memories of the matter, the more he is certain that his past lives had drawn the correct conclusion about his lovers.

"What are you smiling about?" Peter wonders as he spoons Stiles.

"Something I remembered," Stiles smiles.

Peter nuzzles his face down into his boyfriend's shoulders, "I guessed as much, I meant which memory?"

"I remembered you," Stiles admits. "It seems you've been quite a few lives with me, you just can't remember it."

"That's good," Peter purrs. ""In your next life you'll still have me to watch over you."

"I wouldn't want it any other way."

 


End file.
